


Heart of Gold

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Reader-Insert Collection [73]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Language, Reader-Insert, Romance, Shane Being Fucked Up, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: You notice that Shane needs to move on.
Relationships: Shane Walsh/Reader
Series: Reader-Insert Collection [73]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932715
Kudos: 15





	Heart of Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EventHorizons13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizons13/gifts).



You glance into the corner and smile at Destiny as she slides behind the bar. “That cop here again?” you ask.

“Every night this week,” she confirms. “He’s kind of weird, but at least he’s not creepy. Just keeps asking me to take my hair down and let him call me Lori.”

“Definitely not the oddest request you’ve ever had,” you laugh. “Sounds like he’s hung up on someone he can’t have.”

“Probably,” she agrees.

“You need another bottle of the beer he likes?”

“Yeah.”

You hand one over, then watch as she goes back to give him another lap dance.

You shake your head when you catch yourself staring. You don’t have time to pay attention to customers who don’t want your services. If you want to make any money, you have to start doing some dances of your own.

At the end of the night, you haven’t done too badly. You’re tired and definitely ready to go home, but it’s a satisfied kind of tired, so you’re okay with it.

There are only a few customers left. The cop’s one of them. Destiny went home about an hour ago, so now he’s just sitting. He’s not even drinking.

You stop by to check on him to be polite. “Need anything else?” you wonder, not bothering to flirt.

You know he won’t bite.

He shakes his head. “Naw, sweetheart,” he drawls. “Thanks, though.”

You nod and continue your rounds, grimacing as you approach the last table. The guys sitting there were rowdy when they came in, and now they’re drunk, so it’s even worse.

Sure enough, as you walk by, one of them reaches out and grabs your ass. At the very least, you’re used to it, so you know how to handle yourself.

“Hands off,” you order him sternly.

But he just shakes his head and slurs, “It’s a sneak preview, baby. Come home with me.”

“Not a chance.”

Before you can even look for the bouncer, a low voice speaks from behind you. “Lady said hands off. Don’t make me force the issue.”

It’s the cop. He’s standing behind you, his hands on his hips, his badge clearly visible on his belt.

You hold your breath, wondering if his intervention is going to make them even more resistant.

Thankfully, they sober up quickly, then pay their bill and leave.

You turn to him. “Thank you,” you say gratefully.

“No thanks necessary,” he assures you. “You all right?”

“Yeah. It’s not the first time that’s happened.”

He smirks. “I bet not. Well, if I’m ever here and you need help, just holler.”

You don’t think he’s going to say yes, but you offer anyway. “Would you like a dance? It’s on the house for your trouble.”

“That’s nice of you, sweetheart, but no.”

You shrug. “I get it. I’m not your type.”

He pauses. “What do you mean? A dancer? I don’t care about that.”

You laugh lightly. “No, that’s not what I meant,” you explain. “I was talking about looks. You like Destiny. Tall, slim, long brown hair. I’m pretty much exactly her opposite.”

He scans you curiously. You’re quite a bit shorter than him, especially without the heels, and curvy. And while the blonde definitely isn’t your original hair color, you make sure it looks like it is.

He chuckles. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Just to her and me, I think. Um, what’s the story there? Or is that too personal?”

He licks his lip and stares at you for a moment. “She’s my best friend’s wife,” he finally confesses. “But she’s never gonna look at me the way I look at her.”

“I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure what else you’re supposed to say to that kind of revelation.

“I know it’s fucked up,” he tells you.

You tilt your head to the side and stare at him. He’s handsome. Dark hair, good body, strong jawline. Bit of a wonky nose, and his eyes are sad, but it suits him somehow.

“Everyone’s fucked up in their own way,” you answer nonchalantly.

He actually smiles at you, and you can’t help smiling back.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he agrees.

You hesitate, then add, “For what it’s worth, you seem like a great guy. I know it’s none of my business, but you deserve someone who’s into you.”

He bites his lip, but doesn’t reply. After a moment, he moves past you to the door.

The rest of the customers trickle out as you finish cleaning up. You change and grab your purse, then head out the back.

You’re surprised to find him waiting for you. He pushes off the wall when you emerge and gestures vaguely at the parking lot.

“Thought I’d wait in case that asshole tried to start something,” he grunts.

“Thank you,” you repeat.

It really is sweet of him, and he has good instincts, probably because of his job. Sometimes guys do hang around after the place is closed.

You’re both silent for a moment, and then he stammers, “Uh, look. You got anyone to get home to? Boyfriend? Husband? Kids?”

“No,” you admit. “Why?”

“Thought I could take you to dinner.” He shifts from one foot to another nervously. “What you said in there, you were right. I deserve someone who’s into me, and you seem to be, so…”

You grin and nod. “I am.”

He holds out his hand. “Shane. Shane Walsh.” He pauses and grins back. “I’m, uh, guessing Chastity isn’t your real name?”

You shake your head. “No, it is most definitely not.”

“Tell me when we get to wherever we’re going,” he decides. “Your preference.”

“I like the diner up the road, actually,” you confess. “They make great burgers.”

“Yeah, they do,” he agrees. “A burger for the lady, then. I can do that.” He glances around the lot. “You have a car?”

“No. Bus stop is back here.”

He puts his arm around you and leads you to his squad car. “You mind?”

“Not as long as I’m sitting in the front.”

He laughs. “As long as you don’t misbehave,” he counters.

“I’ll do my best,” you tease, winking at him as he opens the door for you.

He shuts it and goes around to his side. You sigh and settle into the seat, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You’re not sure what’s going to happen next, but you hope it’s good.


End file.
